Inner Demons
by Anck-Su-Namun16
Summary: With the lack of feedback from 10, I'm debating on making 11. Should I? Let me know!
1. Meeting

AN- You know those ideas that suddenly BAM hit you just before you fall asleep? Well, this is one of those. I have ideas like that....Check out my Beni/Ardeth Bay slash fic. Maybe I should become a full-time, professional author....hmmm.....  
  
I know that DDP stalked Undertaker's wife a few years back. Well, forget that information. I'm forgetting that it exists....This is before the DDP/Christian match was set up. Basically, the story will focus on Undertaker, DDP, Christian, and *maybe* Edge......pretty sure Edge will be in it, but not completely sure. My first WWF Angst fic. R/R! (For those female Edge fans, I will tell you this: If he does get in it, he will be straight.....)  
  
Warning- This fic will contain hints of m/m slash. If this offends you.......why are you reading this? I gave a warning in the summary........  
  
Disclaimer-I hate these dumb things- I don't own any of the characters below. Simple enough?  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Diamond Dallas Page strolled through the broad hallway of the backstage area, flashing his usual dazzling smile. He was depressed over what Christian did to him, of course, but, you can't win them all. No matter, though. He remained a true friend, even if they didn't. Well, onto the next assignment. Trouble is....where was it?  
  
He did something that the average man would never do, but the average woman does all the time....usually. He stopped and asked for directions. When he told the referee where he wanted to go, DDP had to laugh at the man's look of surprise. But, the ref. managed to stammer out the directions: down the hall, to the left, straight, right, can't miss it....are you sure you want to go there??? DDP assured the ref. that he did.  
  
He frowned at the his assignment's door. It was too.......simple. No decorations, nothing. Of course, a plain door would seem to him. His room was right next doors to Chuck and Billy, and, well, everyone knew what *they* were like. Since DDP had just come back from his daily gym workout, he was wearing his usual wrestler's outfit. The blue and name-labeled vest and the matching pants. And, of course, his smile.  
  
He took deep breath, counted to ten, and raised his hand to knock........  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Inside, Undertaker was thinking of Christian also. He was watching the footage of Christian's attack on DDP, and he (Undertaker) nearly threw the remote in his anger. He didn't know anyone who could keep anger and depression bottled up for so long as Christian does. If he had known that the boy would turn out this way, he wouldn't have.........  
  
-Knock, Knock-  
  
Undertaker quickly ejected the tape, and throwing it under his bed. True, most people did respect him enough not to ask questions, but still, he didn't want anyone to know that he had footage of Christian. He stood up from his chair, his mind turning to the person knocking at his door. He stood up, stretched, and then stared down at his carpet in disgust. He had demanded carpet the last place they were in, and well, he got it this time.  
  
Pink carpet. Non-removable. Disgusting.  
  
"Who is it?" he yelled as he finished stretching. His voice naturally carried the "This-better-be good-or-else" undertones. Usually that scared anyone with an ounce of intelligence.........  
  
"Glad you asked, my friend. It's me, It's me....It's DDP!" came the too-hapy reply.  
  
away. Well, apparently DDP was all smile and no brains, Undertaker thought to himself. He felt a headache fastly approaching. Hey, the headache said, you have DDP with you. Let's make it worse by adding us to the mixture! He groaned wearily. With all that was going on, and only a few days left till Wrestlemania X8, DDP offering "Let's-all-think-positive-and-love-ourselves" advice was the last thing he needed. He hoped he could scare the too-happy man away. He opened the door slightly, his murderous glare and powerful aura enough to make any man think twice before approaching him. He hid a smile as he appeared through the doorway. Apparently, DDP had been leaning on the door. So, he had stumbled when it opened inward, causing the smile to disappear as he regained his balance. Unfortunately, it was a quick moment.  
  
"What do you want, Page?" he practically growled. Undertaker was wearing his usual black pants, sleeve-less black shirt, his finger-less black leather gloves, and his gothic black vest. DDP, took no notice of the death-threat standing before him.  
  
"Glad you asked again, my friend. I'm here to help you...like...you. Liking yourself isn't a bad thing. It's, as a matter of fact, a very good thing!"  
  
Undertaker clenched his fists. He would need patience....something he severely lacked. "Look, Page, I'm not interested in your positive-thinking, tree-hugging, love-all bullshit. So you might as well--"  
  
DDP made a big mistake. He interrupted The Deadman.  
  
"Now, no need for foul language my friend! That kind of language isn't nice and tends to hurt other people's feelings. Ya know what? I like me. And that's not a bad thing. It's a very good thing!"  
  
Undertaker had about enough of this. It was the almost ungodly smile that never left DDP's face that irritated him most of all. He openend the door the rest of the way, liking the way the it slammed into the wall in his room, causing a heavy echo. DDP's smile wavered, fear going into his eyes. Good. He liked fear. He grabbed DDP by the throat, and smiled....a not very good smile. Well, he thought to himself, if this grinning fool likes to give lessons so much, then it was time for *him* to learn something, with Undertaker as a tutor. If the grinning fool didn't know when to leave......well, it was time for lessons to begin now.  
  
"Time to go to school, Page" he said, throwing DDP into his room. He hit his head hard against the concrete wall, slumping to the floor. Well, the smile was gone at least. DDP fought for conciousness as Undertaker walked closer to his unwilling student.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian walked down the hall to DDP's room. It had taken him all morning to gather up his courage for this. He wore blue jeans, a slightly tight,but still loose, sleeveless white shirt, and a thin green jacket over it. He wrung his hands nervously together. He had to do this. He *had* to.  
  
The only way he would gain any respect was to have his old title back. And who held that title? His mentor, DDP. Christian doesn't fight his friends, so that only left one alternative: He had to break his friendship with DDP. It pained him to do so, but, that was the way a wrestler's life was. Some sacrifices must be made. He leaned against the door, taking a deep, calming breath. At least he learned one thing from the Diamond. He knocked on the door....  
  
Dead silence was the only reply.  
  
Christian knocked again, unease beginning to grow rapidly. He knew DDP's schedule by heart. The man almost never went out around 5pm. That was his dinner time. And on the few occasions that he had, DDP had come back after 10 minutes or so. He knocked again, louder.  
  
The silence was almost unbearable.  
  
Something was wrong. He just got that feeling in his gut.....instinct, psychic, call it what you will.  
  
He glanced around, looking for............Yes! There was one of those back-stage refs. He was reading a newspaper, so Christian assumed the man had been there a while. But, you know what they say about assuming anything..........  
  
He walked over, tapping on the newspaper. The ref looked at Christian like he was the rudest creature on the planet. Then he sneered. Christian knew that look. It was the "smile before the taunts".  
  
"What do you want, Canadian CryBaby? Didn't your mommy teach you any manners? Probably not.....considering her "lessons" had to be bought for a few hours.....on her back, most of the time."  
  
'And what about your mother, you asshole?' he wanted to shout. But he didn't. He wouldn't throw a tantrum, giving the ref a show. He composed his expression to one of boredom. He, as usual, ignored the remarks as best he could. No matter how many times he heard them, though, they still annoyed him to no end.  
  
"Actually, I was wondering if you knew where Diamond Dallas Page went. He, uh, told me to meet him here....something about Wrestlemania. He's not in his room, so do you know where he is?" Christian was told he wasn't a good liar. He paused, hesitated, too long. He hoped the son of a bitch before him didn't notice.  
  
"Yeah, Crybaby, I saw him. He went to Undertaker's room. He......" His look changed from genuine mockery, to genuine concern. With good reason. "Hey, uh, Christian...are....you okay?"  
  
Christian nodded, absentmindedly. His false boredom expression had instantly fallen away, as cold fear sliced through him. He walked away, looking as if he was in some kind of a daze or trance. DDP wouldn't try to spread his positive teachings to the DeadMan himself......would he? But, Christian knew the answer to that, as a memory of a conversation reminded him......  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
(A week ago.....flashback)  
  
They, he and DDP, were seated at one of the finest Chinese places in Florida. They were discussing how to control his tantrums, as usual. But, Chrisitan was curious about something.  
  
"So, Diamond, who's your next assignment?" He asked, half-jokingly, taking a sip of some red wine.  
  
"Oh, probably the DeadMan himself. He's not too...positive you know..."  
  
Christian of course, didn't hear this last part. He was too busy choking on his wine in his surprise. When he could finally speak, he said:  
  
"You've got to be kidding, Diamond. *The* DeadMan? *Undertaker*??? A few punches from him and you'll be lucky if you can ever smile again."  
  
DDP laughed. "Well, I'm glad you're staying positive. But, seriously, don't worry about it. At this rate, I'll be busy with you at least until Wrestlemania 20." They both laughed. "Now, repeat after me...."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
(Present)  
  
"I....like.....me" Christian said in unison with the memory. Guilt, Fear, Rage, and a whole mix of emotions washed of him. If anything happened to DDP, it was my fault, he thought to himself. He leaned against the nearest wall, the fear and rage becoming almost unbearable.  
  
Calm down, Christian, Calm dow---  
  
Fuck that, he thought to himself again. Undertaker had gone too far now. Undertaker goes too far a lot of times, but this time, it affected him personally. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to get rid of the other memory trying to resurface. He wouldn't think on that. He was just a foolish youth then, no older than 18. He was young and stupid at the time. He got up from his leaning spot, and ran down the hall, in the directions he'd been given to the bastard's lair. He would forget that young and foolish time in his life. But, no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't go away.  
  
Question was: Had the Undertaker forgetten about it too?  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker leered down at his student, whom, now sported a bloody nose, maybe broken, many bruises, and fought for conciousness.  
  
"Thanks for the practice, Page. Maybe next time, if there is one, you'll think twice about disrespecting anyone....especially me. Oh, and just so you know...." He crouched down, so he was almost eye level with DDP, who was sitting up against the wall for support, "I like me just fine."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian reached the door..finally. He leaned his ear to to it, trying to listen in.  
  
Silence greeted him again.  
  
Diamond Dallas Page had taught him control. But, when your teacher and friend could be in danger, control flies out the window. He ran back a little, throwing his green jacket off. All the doors of the other locker rooms were very weak, so that when the fighting happened in the back room, it looks more real. He figured Undertaker's was the same. He ran straight at the door, putting all his weight into his right shoulder.  
  
The impact on his bare arm was excruciating. He fell back, unable to keep his balance, onto his back on the floor. He held his shoulder, trying to ease the drilling pain.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The sound awoke DDP up a little more in his struggle to stay concious. Undertaker noticed it too, and stood, listening. DDP used this time to check if his nose was broken.  
  
DAMN!  
  
It hurt like hell, but it was only bloodied. He tried to stand, but his legs had long ago turned numb. He fell back, his useless legs crumbling under him, and he hit his head again. The battle was lost.  
  
DDP closed his eyes as his world went black.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian was up, his ear to the door. He held his hurting shoulder, while he listenend. Silence still.......nothing more....  
  
-Thud......slump.....-  
  
Christian leaned in closer. It sounded like somebody being hit and then falling to the floor....(dead) unconcious. He shook his head. No. Undertaker had never gone that far, and he wouldn't start now.....or would he? He grimaced as he straightened out his right arm, feeling his muscles groan in protest. He began kicking the door, his fear adding to his courage......or stupidity.  
  
"UNDERTAKER!!!" He yelled, hoping to get the DeadMan's attention. Whatever happened to him, he could deal with. But he couldn't deal with the fact that his mentor, teacher, and friend might be dead. Might be. He hadn't broken the door down, obviously, in his last attempt. But he had dented it. He walked back a few paces, ignoring the now dulling pain in his right arm. He ran at the door, with more force this time.......... Just as he was about to hit the door again....  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker opened it. The steel chair he was sitting in earlier while watching that movie was directly, a little ways back of course, right in front of the door. He was getting ready to deal a serious blow to whomever disturbed him, again, but his thoughts broke up as Christian came running through.  
  
Christian collided with the chair, his momentum too great for him to stop. He skidded, before finally falling to the floor, the chair folding up and landing on his chest. He held his arm with more pressure, his eyes closed, his teeth clenched, as he took deep breaths. His body natural reaction was to fold up into a ball. Before he could do that, however, he felt a weight press down onto the chair on his chest. Since he was holding his useless right arm, that left his left arm pinned under the chair as well.  
  
He was trapped.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker kept his left knee on the ground, balancing his weight more on that knee, as he pressed down, carefully yet forcefully, onto the chair with his other knee. Christian's eyes were still shut tight, as his body reacted to the pain. A strand of hair had fallen over the youth's eyes and Undertaker gently brushed it away. Only a small portion of his mind was thinking of the unconcious all-too-happy Diamond Dallas Page slumped over in the corner. Most of his mind was focused on the beautiful youth pinned down below him. He traced his fingers gently over Christian's face, recalling every detail that was so familiar to him.  
  
Christian had quieted his shaking down, but he still kept his eyes closed. That was fine, Undertaker thought. He leaned down and kissed each one of those beautiful lashes. All thoughts of DDP were completely gone now as Christian opened his exquisite, forest-green eyes.  
  
And for the first time in four years, the two ex-lovers were meeting eye-to-eye.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
AN- Yes, I know Kane and Undertaker had beaten Edge and Christian for the tag team belts a while back...But, like the fact of DDP being a stalker, I'm eliminating it. Anyway, I know it's an odd concept and I'm twisting a lot of facts around, but, pllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaasssssseeeeeeeeee R/R!!!!!!! I want to know what everyone thinks of this; if you want to know more....or, it'll just become a waste of my time. It's 1:30 AM now....I started writing this, copying it from my notebook, at 11:30. There wasn't much angst now.....but there will be lots more next chapter.....that is, if people want ot know the second chapter..... 


	2. Discovery

AN- Apparently, you all want to know what happens. Well, to be honest, so do I. That's the way I write: no notes, just type........I don't recommend this type of writing: you can scare yourself sometimes. Seriously. Right now, I'm debating between Edge and/or Scott Hall during a certain key scene next chapter. I'll let my fingers take control.........As usual, R/R!  
  
Disclaimer- Whatever. Ya know the usual.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
He didn't feel like going to school today. He would tell his mom that he was sick. And, that was a good thing.......Good thing? That was his famous quote....Quote??? He didn't have a quote. He was a young.........wrestler?......no, a kid.  
  
Wait, he had already gone to school with The Undertaker. Yes, he remembered that. Undertaker had gotten an 'F' on his Spelling test. Oh, it's true. Wait....that was Kurt's saying............Who was Kurt? Oh, he was the math teacher.........He was teaching about different angles today.....no, wait.........  
  
DDP moaned, his childhood memories somehow mixing with his adult memories. In some distant part of his mind, he hoped he wouldn't have amnesia. The blood from his nose had dryed up. That was a good thing. Was that his phrase? The adult part of him hoped to wake up soon. But, his mind was drifting......drifting.......he didn't want to go to school today........  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker stared down at his ex-lover, feeling a wave of emotions too strong for words. Pain, Regret, Anger, Sadness, Curiousity, Jeaslously, and a small hint of fear. Four years, he thought. Four long years. He could almost see the same rush of emotions of Christian's face, although pain was the more dominant.  
  
Undertaker moved his knee off the chair, throwing the thing absently to the side, where it hit the wall with a loud clang. Christian had closed his eyes tightly, clutching his right arm in a death-grip. The best thing to do would be to numb the area, making sure it doesn't swell up. Christian was biting his lip to keep from crying out in his agony, and Undertaker felt a few more emotions to add to the web he was already feeling; pride and respect. He placed his hand over Christian's, holding it almost as tightly as Christian was holding his right arm.  
  
"Chris, you stupid daring idiot. We need to get some ice on that sucker or else you'll have trouble moving that arm at all." He paused. When next he spoke, it was in a soft voice, almost a whisper. "And if memory serves me right, you write with your right hand......"  
  
He started to move the man's left hand, noting how the knuckles were turning white in their painful grip. Christian struggled of course, his natural male ego kicking in.  
  
"Chris, I'm going to put some ice on that, with or without your cooperation. I know holding it helps dull the pain somewhat, but you don't want to tear your arm off in such a maddening grip." He reached over to the icebox that was seated near where the chair used to be. He almost smiled. He had no bags to put the ice in, so that left one alternative. He brought the ice box nearer to him, his one hand gripping a can of ice-cold Budweiser.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian bit his lip, trying to ignore both the emotional and physical pain that was throbbing through him. Those same hands that had terrified many, were now gently trying to ease his hand away from the extremely painful right arm. Christian knew that if he bit his lip anymore, he'd be tasting blood.  
  
Without warning, his hand was pulled away, in the grips of Undertaker's own powrful hand. In the same motion, he felt something cold.......a can, maybe?.......press to his pained arm. As the added cold pain bombarged his senses, he instinctively bit down harder on his lip, his hand gripping his former lover's. He breathed deep, his heartbeat now going too fast for his comfort.  
  
He sat up, the pain thankfully beginning to go numb. And that was a good thing..........  
  
His eyes snapped open, the reason *why* he was here in the first place slamming back into his mind. He struggled against the Undertaker's gentle grip, but to no avail. Undertaker, with a low angry growl, released Christian's hand. Only, a split-second later, he had both of them captured in his powerful grip. Christian lowered his head, hoping Undertaker hadn't seen the........  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Tears wellling up in his eyes. The pain he saw reflected in Christian's eyes tore through his heart like a knife. He touched the arm with his finger, noting the coldness there. Good. He moved the beer can away, reaching up to place his hand beneath Christian's chin.  
  
"Christian, after all those years, you still can't look at me?" Undertaker tilted Christian's chin up, so that they were, once again, looking each other in the eye. "That's much better." Undertaker said, in a soft voice, barely above a whisper. Christian's eyes were moist with unshed tears, though his eyes were buring with both anger and desire. Undertaker smiled at the effect the emotions had on his love's eyes.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
DDP moaned, his conciousness returning....and with it, the pain. He clenched his lip brutally in his teeth, just as Christian had done earlier. He hoped Undertaker, if the man was still here, hadn't noticed his brief movement. As it was with subconcious and unconcious, DDP wouldn't remember his memories mixing together.  
  
He decided the best bet would be to keep his eyes and mouth shut, and keep his ears open. He heard two people breathing......he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Two people could mean Kane and Undertaker.....a duo he didn't want to mess with. But.....wait.  
  
The first, from his guesses, was Undertaker's. The second, however, sounded a bit shaky......like he or she had been crying. Now, how could be crying in the Undertaker's prescence? Well, many. So, that did nothing to limit his choices.  
  
Risking it, he openend his eye a crack....then wider. He used all his willpower not to gasp or make any noises whatsoever. It was Christian, with his back leaning against the table with the TV, that DDP had seen earlier. He was glaring at Undertaker, with what emotion, DDP couldn't say at this distance. Speaking of the Devil, Undertaker was on both of his knees, his finger tilting Christian's chin up so they were eye-to-eye. His other hand was over Christian's right shoulder, not gripping, his hand was just.....there.  
  
DDP quickly closed his eye, trying his best not to move. The way his legs felt now, it would hurt tremendously later when the numbness started to wear off. What he heard next almost stole a gasp of surprise from the self-help teacher.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"It was your fault, 'Taker. You're the one that left, not me. So, don't be getting all sad and romantical on me. Just let me get Page, whom if you need reminding, you beat the shit out of. I'll get Page, walk out of here, and then we'll continue as we have before. Ignoring each other as best as possible, with the help of Vinc......"  
  
Undertaker cut him off right there, his irritation at seeing Christian so angry becoming too much to handle. His head swooped down quickly, his lips capturing Christian's in a jealous and possesive kiss. His tongue broke through Christian's weak, if any, defenses. His tongue swirled around Christian's, teasingly.  
  
Christian brought his left hand to push Undertaker away, but his hand betrayed him. The trecherous hand instead around Undertaker's neck, drawing the man closer to him. Christian unconciously let out a moan .....a moan which soon turned into disappointment as Undertaker used that moment to move away quickly. Their breath mingled as Undertaker spoke.  
  
"Ignore that, Chris." One tear did manage to escape, though Christian would never admit to it. His mind wouldn't hold onto his anger, no matter how hard he tried. His voice was husky and shaky, no matter how much he tried to stop the tremble.  
  
"Damn you, 'Taker. Damn you to Hell." Undertaker laughed at that.  
  
"You can damn me there all you want, but I'll only go if you follow me into the Darkness, Christian."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
DDP's only thought at this moment was: HUH????? All he felt was confusion......which slowly grew into realization.  
  
Pent-up emotions. That's what he sensed in Christian's last statement. Pain, love, anger, and a whole bunch even he couldn't untangle. Well, what to do now, Page thought. Maybe if he moved quietly, he could escape without bothering the two.....lovebirds? Doubtful. What then? He didn't have an answer to that one.  
  
Well, it's now or never. He motivated his body closer to the door, using his hands, glad Undertaker's back was slightly to him. Unfortunatley, his sudden change of motion moved his legs. He hissed in a breath quickly, the numb-pain shooting up his leg. He opened his eyes, figuring he might as well; with his hiss of pain being so loud. DDP didn't like to swear, but, the occasion called for it:  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker turned quickly around, to both Christian's relief as well as disappointment. Undertaker quickly changed from the romantic but still gothic lover, to his normal self: A man ready to kill. DDP looked up at him, his hand holding his leg and fear in his eyes. Undertaker stood, walking slowly around DDP, like a spider inspecting the next meal that flew into it's web.  
  
"So, you're awake. Up for another lesson? Fine with me." Christian hated him at that moment, the memory of the kiss, thankfully, lost. Unfortunately, his lips still tingled and wanted more. Christian watched Undertaker's movement, realizing what the Deadman was doing. His powerful body was blocking any way for DDP to see him (Christian). Undertaker made a motion with his hand, indicating for Christian to leave, unnoticed.  
  
To hell with that idea.  
  
Christian got up, and put himself between Undertaker and his former teacher. Undertaker's eyes blazed with fury and a 'What the hell are you doing?' look. Surprisingly, it was DDP who spoke up first.  
  
"Kid, get out. Don't defend me."  
  
"Shut up while I'm trying to defend you, Page." He crossed his arms over his chest, meeting Undertaker's glare. "I won't let you hurt him, 'Taker. I came here on a mission, and a mission only. I plan to achieve it."  
  
"Do you now?" Undertaker put his hands on his hips, moving closer to Christian. He had a slight smirk on his lips. "And how do you plan to do that, might I ask? In a one-on-one match, you've got no chance, Chris."  
  
"'Taker, your fight is with me. Don't hurt your...." DDP stopped, realizing his mistake too late. Undertaker shoved Christian aside, and lifted DDP up by grabbing a handful of his vest in his fist.  
  
"'My what? Go ahead. Finish your sentence, Page. I'm intrigued to hear what you have to say."  
  
"Don't hurt him, Undertaker!" Christian nearly screamed as he ran at Undertaker, in an attempt to distract him.  
  
No such luck with that one. Undertaker easily grabbed Christian by his white sleeveless shirt. He looked once at Christian, than turned his attention back to DDP.  
  
"In case you didn't know, this is my room. Anything I ask is an order to reply immediately. Now, as you were saying...." He brought DDP closer to him, his eyes blazing fury into DDP's painful and fearful gaze.  
  
"I don't know what he is to you, 'Taker. What I do know is, I don't want the boy to come to any more pain. Your fight is with me, so let him go."  
  
Undertaker released them both, and turned his back on both of them. He heard DDP cry out in pain, but he ignored it. He walked to the far corner in the room and sat down on his mortorcycle. He leaned his head against the handlebars, his back still to them. He uttered one command.  
  
"Out."  
  
"Undertaker, I........" Christian started, but was interrupted as Undertaker whirled around, glaring at him.  
  
"Did you hear me?! I said 'out' and I meant it. You wanted to leave so bad, so, go. Take the Diamond out with you." He paused, and his eyes bore into Christian's with their intensity. "You want things to remain the same? Fine. Have it your way." He turned back around, but not before DDP saw the slight moistness in the Deadman's eyes.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
AN- I wanted this chapter to be longer, but....It's almost 1 AM!! I still have to do some chores!! Anyway, I'm going through an emotional roller coaster here....the words pouring out of me as they come to my mind. A lot of first for me, folks. First kiss in a fic. First angst. Etc....... PLEASE let me know what you think! I crave feedback! My email is always open! I hope, next fic, to get through WX8....not sure, though. 


	3. Struggle

AN- Sara, as I learned, is Undertaker's wife. I may cross that bridge later, but for now, she's either A. Non- Existant; or B. Is on vacation. GoDawgs also gave me an idea for a 'naughty' scene......The images that invaded my mind hopefully will go away soon. It was a good idea, don't get me wrong....it's just.....I don't see me writing it. If you want to know what the idea was, I'll give you a hint: lead.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I *really* have to do these? *sigh* Don't own anything.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
*Did* he want things to remain the way they were before? Wait, "before"?? If there was a "before", that meant there was an "after", which would indicate something had changed. And Christian refused to admit that anything had. He just....got....distracted.  
  
He laughed bitterly, scaring DDP a bit. Yeah, distracted. What a word for what had taken place. He reached down and, after a few minutes, managed to balance him and DDP into a walking order. He glanced once, only once, back at his ex-boyfriend, before heading slowly out the door.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
'Jesus, leave already!' Undertaker thought desperately, trying to speed things along. If Christian was unwilling to patch things up, well then, so was he.  
  
Then why was it so hard to forget that damned kiss? He was leaned down slightly, with his head bowed near the handlebars of his 'cycle. 'After the way you had left, you bastard, no wonder he is unwilling.' He thought to himself. 'Was he so unwilling?' Was the memory of the kiss so damned? No. It just....brought up so many good memories.  
  
'That's the last thing you need', he told himself. You have a match with Ric Flair, 50% owner of this company, an icon. He's held many titles.....  
  
(Christian held the Tag-Team title with Edge)  
  
So, you can't be letting you mind wander. Think of a strategy for winning your 10th Wrestlemania Win.....  
  
(How many Wrestlemanias had Christian won?)  
  
He slammed his fist against the handlebars, wincing at the sudden flash of pain. He couldn't think now of anything that Christian wasn't, in some way or another, related to.  
  
He could forget him tomorrow. Yeah. Simple.  
  
If it was so damned simple, why couldn't he convince himself that he could do it?  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
DDP leaned against the wall, crazily stomping his foot, trying to get the feeling back. Christian was closing the door to Undertaker's room, trying to keep his eyes on the ground......but failing. He sighed in relief as the numbness started to go away. Now he could walk.......but to where? What he wanted to do, was to throw those two fools into a very tiny room (the tinier, the better) until they confessed their oh-so-obvious feelings. Well, they were obvious to him, anyway.  
  
'Next time, I get my room as far away from Billy and Chuck as humanly possible', he thought to himself, chuckling.  
  
Just as Christian closed the door, he jumped in surprise at the sudden sound of Undertaker's mortorcycle engine revving up. DDP saw surprise, sadness, and....longing? in Christian's eyes when he looked back towards the door. The engine sounded almost......sad. After a moment, DDP laughed. Yeah, a motorcycle engine that sounded sad. What next?  
  
"Page, we need to talk" the voice of Christian was now monotone, almost emotionless. It made him nervous.  
  
"Sure, kid. But.....away from The Deadman's room, ok?" At this, Christian nodded. His head was down, and he looked like he was trying to control his emotions, hiding them from view. To a point, he succeeded. He looked up when he next spoke.  
  
"Can you walk?"  
  
"Stiffly, but yeah." DDP got up from his leaning position, and spotted a bench not far off.  
  
"We can talk there, if you want."  
  
Chrisitan nodded and the two began walking towards it, both lost in thought, both minds on the same subject.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Why couldn't he just forget it? It was just a kiss. Hell, he'd received many in his life. From Crazed Fan Girls......  
  
(Undertaker)  
  
and numerous girlfriends. As they sat down at the bench DDP had pointed to, he could feel DDP's eyes on him. He leaned his head against his hands, his long hair slightly obscuring his eyes. He needed to ask a question that had been bugging him since they'd left, and didn't know how to approach the subject. So, he figured the direct approach was best.  
  
"How much did you hear, Page?" He feel DDP start in surprise, and a long uncomftorable silence followed. His hands turned into fists, and he tried to dull his growing impatience. As of late, he's developed a growing hatred for such silences. He was about to interrupt when he heard a reply.  
  
"About what?"  
  
His self-control was wavering. He could hear the never-ending smile behind that seemingly innocent response. Why couldn't the man ever be serious? Through gritted teeth, he ground out,  
  
"When you were regaining conciousness in there, did you happen to hear anything?"  
  
A pause again. He was so near to punching Page, it wasn't funny. Or a good thing.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Boy, the kid was worked up. He thought he'd try for a little humor, ya know, somehow lighten the mood. Well, of course, that failed. He looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone near. Fortunately, they were all focused on the almost main-event match tonight. He dropped the smile and sighed. He leaned closer to the slightly trembling Christian.  
  
"Nothing unusual. Just two fools in love not willing to..."  
  
POW!  
  
The punch to his jaw by the fast-moving Christian knocked him off the bench. He rubbed the sore area, checking for any loose teeth, the usual. Okay, maybe he should learn when to shut up. He turned over, attempting to get up. Instead, Christian grabbed him, one fist clenched in each side of his vest, and he felt his back being violently slammed against the wall.  
  
He could see the strain it cost Christian, as sweat was beaded at his hairline. That didn't explain the moistness in the eyes, though. That was one thing and one thing only. Unshed tears. They were nearly eye to eye when Christian next spoke.  
  
"I just asked you for what you heard. Not an analysis of it."  
  
"Fine. I woke up in time to hear something about him leaving you. Then I heard....." his eyes noticed the slight blush that crept into Christian's cheeks, and he had to stop a smile, "Enough to give proof to what I said earlier."  
  
"You were wrong!" Christian emphasized this by another slamming Page against the wall again. "Wrong! Wrong! Wron-"  
  
"About what, Christian? Huh? That you two aren't in love?" He moved closer to Christian's moist, fearful gaze. "You look me in the eye and tell me that."  
  
Christian swallowed hard and DDP felt his grip relax. His vest would need ironing out before this day was over, he thought absently. The younger man kept his eyes locked on his.  
  
"We're.......Me and 'Taker......aren't......." Page felt a lump in his throat as he saw the anguish in Christian's eyes. Two tears managed to escape those youthful eyes. "We're not.........."  
  
"Save it, kid." Page felt like hugging him, but he knew what kind of reaction *that* would bring about. Instead, despite his throbbing headache, he placed his hands on Chrisitan's shoulders and squeezed gently.  
  
"I don't want to sound like a therapist, but, it's not a good thi...." He decided that hearing his saying would annoy Christian too much. "good idea to keep all your emotions bottled inside. You should let them out....." he paused, remembering his jaw ".....But, if possible, not on me."  
  
Christian released him, and turned slightly. He wiped his watering eyes and straightened his back before turning back to Page. The near emotionless eyes were more disturbing than the fearful ones. Christian was blocking out his emotions, DDP noticed. That was a very bad thing. He still had his fists clenched, as though focusing on the physical pain, instead of the emotional.  
  
"I.....challenge you to a match at Wrestlemania ay......eighteen." He was trembling, his voice back to a monotone. DDP slumped against the wall, feeling defeated. Perhaps his lessons on "Controlling Your Emotions" went a little too far. He didn't have to ask what kind of match Christian wanted.  
  
"Fine, whatever you want, Christian. If the damned title means that much to you, then I accept." Christian nodded and started to walk away. Before he got too far away though, DDP yelled after him.  
  
"You can't deny love, Christian. You proved that to me a few moments ago. And if I can see it, then so can The Deadman." As he saw Christian's angry gaze turn to him, Page moved closer to him. "I won't repeat what happened in that room to anyone. But, know this, Chris. Your love will always be there. You may be able to hide from him, but you can't escape it."  
  
"I can, Diamond Dallas Page, and I *will* !" with that, Christian ran off.  
  
DDP slumped against the wall again, wincing at the pain in his temples. He's been beat up by two love-sick fools in one day. Both unwilling to admit their love, both having too much ego and pride to do such a thing. He laughed as the craziest idea formed in his head.  
  
"Maybe, it's time I gave my advice to a Dead man......I might have better results." He laughed again, ignoring the pain in different places. Yes. He would definetly join the fools club before the night was over....that, or the hospital. Whichever one came first.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian ran through the twisty hallways, his tears streaming from his eyes. He leaned against the wall, unable to cry, breathe, and run at once. He covered his eyes as best he could, knowing how pathetic he sounded. He punched the wall in his anger, trying to stop the flowing tears. He knew how bad he looked......  
  
"Christian, are you okay?"  
  
He turned, still sniffling, to the person who spoke. Great. Like he needed to see another person that could be able to read him like a paperback book. The best defense, he thought, was a great offense. He glared angrily at his half-brother.  
  
"Do I look fucking okay, Edge? Maybe that shampoo has gone to your head in more ways than one and altered your vision."  
  
Edge just chuckled and shook his head. His brother always resorted to anger whenever he was scared or frustrated. Predictable, and a little sad. He turned his gentle smile on his brother.  
  
"No, I guess not. Just asking, bro. Didn't know that was against the law now."  
  
"Whatever, Edge. I'm going to our room to get some rest. Or, did you want to ask me a few more annoying, dumb-ass questions?" Edge made a dismissive gesture and Christian continued his run. Edge sighed as he shook his head in confusion. Ever since Christian had read the schedule for this RAW!, he's been acting......weird. He looked over his shoulder every time he went out somewhere, and was always on-the-edge nervous. A small noise would make the antsy guy jump.  
  
Edge shook his head in confusion. Well, it was a rule they agreed to: They shared rooms, not privacy. Edge checked his watch. All thoughts of his younger brother fled his mind as he began to run to the ramp-way. He was so far from it, and he had so little time to get there before his entrance played, announcing his match with Regal. Damn!! His long blonde hair and black leather coat streamed behind him as he used an all-out run.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian fumbled with the keys, cursing his trembling hands. He finally got the door open and ran into the small room, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself on the bed, clutching the pillow like a lifesaver. After a moment, he sat up, and grabbed the pill bottle he kept on the desk. The bottle said "Excedrin", but he knew what it really was.  
  
The lid disappeared as he flicked it with his thumb. He grabbed two pills and then set the bottle down. He picked up the water bottle and took a huge drink after he threw the pills into his mouth. He lay back down clutching the pillow, and drawing the blankets around him. He let the tears flow as the sleeping pills began to slowly, too slowly, take effect.  
  
As his mind began to slowly get hazy with the drug effects, it was then that he realized his green coat was still by Undertaker's door.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
AN- My computer is against me. The first time I wrote this chapter out, my compy froze. All I was doing was turning on another song (Ambient, Techno, and Live's "Forever May Not Be Long Enough" do wonders for angsty writing) and my compy chose that moment to freeze. It could've froze while I was on the document so maybe I could copy some stuff down, but noooooooooooo. Ironically, I find that I like this chapter much more. Anyway, I will definetly go through WX8 next chapter. Thanks again for all the reviews!! I really appreciate it!! : - ) 


	4. Lights Out!

AN- Chapter 5....already? Well, I'm writing this at 2am, so I'm sure there are going to be many mistakes. I just felt like posting it. I couldn't really add more to it........I like to leave off at a cliffhanger ;) For those Edge-heads out there, you won't be seeing too much more of him from now on. I'm thinking of him having a "walk-in" moment.......still debating. Anyway, enjoy my only short chapter!  
  
Disclaimer: Whatever.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
An exhausted Edge walked quickly to the room he shared with his brother. He needed a shower after that intense match, but, he felt the oddest feeling to check up on Christian. He was carrying his black coat in one hand, wiping the sweat off his brow with the other.  
  
When he entered the room, he immediately felt a flash of unease. He spotted Christian's sleeping form, the covers all messed up from where he tossed and turned. Nightmare, perhaps? His eyes focused on the bottle and he chuckled. He threw his coat absently into a nearby chair and walked over to pick up the lid. Christian was always leaving things around. Don't know where he got it from, he thought with a smile. He picked up the bottle in his other hand. That was just.......  
  
Wait.  
  
"No, it....he wouldn't....." he said out loud to further increase his disbelief. He dropped the lid and popped two pills into his hand. He looked from the pills to Christian and back to the pills.  
  
These weren't Excedrin.  
  
Sleeping pills? He stared at the pills dumbly. Sleeping pills?? Why?  
  
He clutched the pills so hard in his fist he felt the damned things break and crumble. Damn! He wished they were as close as they once were; him and Christian. Then he would be able to know what Christian was going through; his torment.  
  
He watched the pills, now more dust than solid, float to the ground. Edge quickly put the lid back on the bottle and gently put it in it's usual place on the desk. He crouched down, looking into Christian's sleeping serene face. He brushed one strand behind his brother's ears and shook his head.  
  
"Sometimes, you can't do everything on your own, Chris."  
  
He got up and started to walk the door. Just as he reached it, he heard Christian moan in his sleep.  
  
"...ker.....no....."  
  
He turned quickly around, hoping to hear more. But the scrunch left his face, returning once again to the serenity it was earlier. He shook his head sadly again, and walked out of the room. As he was walking to the shower room, his mind drifted. 'Ker....Ker....' Who? After a few moments, he turned around and stared at the room door.  
  
Naw, it couldn't be.........................Could it???  
  
He laughed at his foolishness and continued on his walk. But the unease still drifted in his mind.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker got up from his bike, and walked out of the room with his usual big strides. Damn, he needed a stiff drink. Well, Steve wasn't on tonight, so......that meant whatever the WWF Management had would have to do.  
  
It was times like these he, along with many others, missed Steve Austin. The guy was such an expert on beer......it was almost unsettling. He walked through the curvy, twisty hallways, letting his mind wander. He had his head down, thinking about beer, Wrestlemania, anything *but* Christian. Of course, trying *not* to think of Christian, made him think of the young blonde.  
  
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the figure following him.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
How many times are you going to tell yourself this? Oh well, he replied in his mind, it needs said.  
  
You're.....a Dead Man Walking. Or, might as well be. You're following The Undertaker! Even after the severe beating you got by both him and Christian.......do you have a death wish?!  
  
Well, I must, DDP thought to himself. The plan would work, it would........  
  
Wait.  
  
What was the plan!? Oh, yeah. He would follow Undertaker until they got into an enclosed area. Then, DDP would shut out the lights. Why? Well, for protection, of course! Of course, his mind instantly thought of the complications.  
  
(light not near door.......he went into a public area........or worse, He Caught You!)  
  
Well, he'd let the future decide all that. All he knew was, it was time to play match-  
  
(Are you planning on dying???)  
  
maker.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Ric Flair was blonde was......or was that his son? Wait......  
  
Was he being followed??  
  
He stopped, and listened. All he could hear was his own breathing......but that, of course, meant nothing. Undertaker held his head up, and laughed silently. If someone was following him, they were either a. dumb as hell; b.Lacking a brain;c. all the above. No matter. If they wanted to fight him, they can just bring it.  
  
He knew that was the Rock's saying, but oh well. He continued his walk to the lounge area, letting his mind drift again. As he neared the door, he paused with his hand on the handle. He was tempted to look, perhaps catch a glimpse of who was following him. He smiled and shook his head. He opened the door and walked immediately to the Beverages table.  
  
He was ready for anything. Even passing out free lessons in school.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
DDP was glad he wore extra deodorant. That........was.......*close*!! He could feel the sweat under his arms and on his forehead.  
  
The blood under his nose, of course, had been washed off. He had straightened up somewhat before heading out on his journey. DDP quickly closed the distance between him and the door. He looked inward, his body hidden, to see if Undertaker was watching.  
  
He wasn't. With a deep breath, DDP ran inside, slamming the door behind him.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker smiled as he felt eyes on him. When the door had slammed, he must admit, he had jumped slightly. He was about to turn to see who his stalker was. But before he could get a glimpse, the lights were flicked off.  
  
He stood still, waiting. Showdown.  
  
A showdown in the dark. Both advesarys blinded. Undertaker found that he didn't like those odds. 


	5. Confrontation

AN- Thanks again for all the reviews. Sorry it has taken so long to post the next chapter....I got caught up in an efed. So, I forced myself to close down all websites, except my story, and write the next 2 chapters. This goes through DDP's and Undertaker's meeting, and next will go through WX8. If my thinking is correct, some parts won't match up with the roster split....... Also, when I mention "the last RAW in Texas"....don't quote me on the location. Just go with it, folks.  
  
Disclaimer- Quoting a great man..."I just gotta say......whatever"-Scott Hall  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
DDP waited nervously. Should he speak first? After a few more minutes of waiting, he decided he might as well. He opened his mouth to speak.....  
  
"If you turned off the lights to harm me, then you're a coward. If you wanted to talk, Page, then we aren't getting very far this way."  
  
'How'd he know who I am?' DDP thought. Well, the Dead Man had a point. Taking his chances, he turned the lights back on. Undertaker was standng near the Beverages table, a hand poised over a can of Mountain Dew.  
  
"That's better. Now, while you gather up courage, I'm going to get a drink. Hope you don't mind." Undertaker said before opening the can and taking a long drink, which ended with a sigh of relief.  
  
"How'd you know it was me?" DDP asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He decided it was best to stay near the door. Undertaker laughed, placing the can on the table.  
  
"Well, two things really. One, I notcied the lightning on your vest out of the corner of my eye before you turned the lights out. Second, instinct. Who else would be dumb enough to follow me at 10pm?"  
  
"I'm not here for me, 'Taker. If I said I was here to help you, I'd get my third beating today....I doubt my body could handle it. So-"  
  
Undertaker held up a hand, halting Page's sentence. Page tried to swallow his nervousness. He looked cautiously at his advesary. Undertaker lowered his hand and looked at Page, confused.  
  
"'Third'? Your brain must be more messed up than I thought. If I beat you now, which I'm not planning to at the moment, it'd be your second."  
  
For the first since he entered the room, DDP laughed.  
  
"You sure about that, Dead Man? Well, after Christian helped me out, he demanded if I'd heard anything while waking up...."  
  
"I'm curious about that myself," interrupted Undertaker, glaring at Page.  
  
"I told him 'Nothing'."  
  
Undertaker's glare narrowed in suspicion as Page walked closer to him.  
  
"I said, 'Nothing....just two fools in love'. There was more I wanted to say, except he punched me in the jaw."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
He should be angry. For Page to say something like that to Christian called for anger. But, was his anger answering his summons?  
  
No. Undertaker found that he desperately wanted to know Christian's response, after the punch of course, to that more than anything. He picked up his can of pop taking a sip. He kept his deep voice calm when he next spoke.  
  
"Well, after punching you, what'd he say?"  
  
Page smiled. "He pushed me against the wall and screamed his denial of you two in love repeatedly. I challenged him to look me in the eye and say that." He stopped, and looked at Undertaker for his reaction to that. Undertaker gripped the can so tight that he heard the sound of it crunching in his hand. He stopped and looked at Page, unable to keep the impatience out of his manner and voice.  
  
"And? If you're going to talk, Page, then do it. Don't stop after each sentence!"  
  
Page just chuckled again. He shook his head, still smiling. "He couldn't do it. No matter how hard he tried, ignoring the tears, he couldn't deny it." The smile disappeared and Page frowned sadly. "I told him he should reveal his feelings......but he was closing in on himself. His eyes became emotionless and he turned from me. He challenged me before walking away."  
  
Undertaker released his anger on the poor can of pop. He threw it across the room, knowing some pop had spilled on him. He didn't need to ask what kind of challenge. He punched the wall, hoping to relieve some of his frustrations. The wall dented, but offered no comfort or release.  
  
"Where is he now, Page?"  
  
"At my best guess? In his room, drugged."  
  
Undertaker felt the urge to punch this man, but it was never a good idea to punch your only source of information. He turned around quickly, clenching his fists together, fighting the violent urge.  
  
"What do you mean 'drugged'?? You better explain yourself, Page" he ground out through clenched teeth. DDP fished in his pocket for a minute, too long for 'Taker's preferance. He finally found what he was looking for. Page handed Undertaker a bottle. His anger evaporated for the moment, as he looked at the empy prescription bottle in confusion. He looked at Page, the question clear in his eyes.  
  
"Sleeping pills. I just noticed them recently. When we were in Texas for that last RAW, he left his bag open while he went out for a drink. When I was getting ready, I dropped my watch....it landed right by his bag."  
  
Undertaker shook in his anger. He wanted to throw the empty bottle, but he knew that would only accomplish another mess for the janitors to clean up. Page cleared his throat, drawing Undertaker's attention back to him.  
  
"I'm risking a few more bruises and my sanity, but......You should go talk to him."  
  
Undertaker gave him the "I-can't-believe-you-said-that" look. "And what, exactly, do I say? Hmm? You seem to be the big know-it-all expert on everything. So, you tell me."  
  
"How am I to advise you on that? You know him better than most, maybe even more than his own brother. He just needs something to relieve all this anger inside of him. Have you seen his tantrums? If you haven't, then you're blind. He goes into them every time he loses a match, or any time he gets angry. It's like a ticking time bomb with him."  
  
Undertaker sighed, and put the pill bottle on the table near him. He still didn't know what he was going to do, but he did know he wanted out of this room. He began to walk away, but as he went past Page, he felt a hand roughly grab his arm. He turned to face DDP.  
  
"That's the best I can do, 'Taker. If you go to him, then maybe I've accomplished something tonight, if anything. If not..." He released his arm. "Then your heart is as dead as your name."  
  
"I'm not sure what I'll do, Diamond. But it's my business, you understand? Not yours." With that, he walked out. DDP sighed, looking at the door.  
  
"So everyone says, Dead Man." He thought of WX8 and smiled sadly. "If words can't reach you, maybe actions will."  
  
AN- WX8 Next Chapter! 


	6. LockerRooms

AN- Everyone said to add more quickly, and when I added Chapter 5, noone reviewed. Is that a bad omen? A hint to quit writing this story? Hmmm......Well, we'll see. If noone reviews 6, then there won't be a Chapter 7, let's put it that way. I have bad luck with Chapter 6's with my fics.....Is it because 7 is unlucky?? Damn, I hope not. Anyway............  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Inside his lockerroom, Undertaker was taking all of his frustrations out on a punching bag. But, like the wall in the Lounge, it offered no comfort. His mind went in different directions, and he wasn't sure which subject frustrated him more.  
  
(DDP said Christian couldn't deny the love...could it be true?)  
  
(What if Ric Flair wins tonight?)  
  
(That damned kiss.....)  
  
(What's the best way to beat Ric "The Man" Flair?)  
  
(The eyes are the window to the soul....)  
  
With a final vicious punch to the un-relieving punching bag, Undertaker leaned against it, wondering at that last thought. That last kiss with Christian had been quick...just out of frustration. What if....he tried it again? Undertaker smiled to himself, and stood up, stretching. He was wearing his usual outfit, minus the glasses and jacket. He reached for his glasses, thought better of it, and walked towards the door. He didn't want anything, like the glasses, to obscure his vision.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Unlike Undertaker, Christian was pacing his room, his mind *refusing* to stray to thoughts of The Dead Man. Christian wore his wrestling outfit, beings that his match was one of the firsts. He was thinking of his strategy for the match tonight, how to win, and he came up with one simple rule: No Temper-Tantrums. Of course, thinking of the tantrums brought thoughts of Undert.....but, he didn't complete them. He looked at his watch, checking to see how much time he had left before he had to go out there.  
  
Half-an-hour. Well, he thought with a shrug, that was enough time to get something to eat right? Hopefully it was. After a quick glance in the mirror to see how he looked, more important was how his hair looked, he headed towards the door.  
  
As he walked out, he thought of Diamond Dallas Page. The man didn't know everything, but he did know about him and Undertaker....as ex-lovers. *Only* ex-lovers. Would the man use it against him tonight? More importantly, would DDP tell anyone what he knew? Christian headed towards the Lounge area, his mind plagued with questions.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"So, what's the plan tonight?" The black haired man asked, his voice slightly hinting of an accent. He was walking with his partner, the smirk and the cocky look in his eyes always present.  
  
"Simple. After your match with Stone Cold, we help out with our brother's match with Rocky." Kevin Nash responded. The two members of the nWo were walking down the hall towards their lockerroom. Naturally, it was far away from the other wrestlers. Of course, just for fun, they took the long way to the room, watching as the other wrestlers gave them fearful looks.  
  
"Speaking of which, "Nash continued, "Just where *is* Hogan? For him to be late is very odd." After opening the door to their room and sitting down on a nearby couch (the nWo's locker room was more furnished than most of the others), Scott Hall replied with a shrug, "I dunno, Kev. He's been acting weird a lot lately. Ever since he accepted Rocky's match."  
  
"Yeah, I know. It....worries me, ya know?" Kevin sat down beside Scott on the couch, taking a drink of his beer. After, he narrowed his eyes, voicing his recent thoughts. "Do you think.....he plans to betray us? He seems more focused on this match than us."  
  
"I know what you mean. When I asked him earlier what were his plans for us with Rocky, he got real quiet....creepy-quiet. After about a minute, he changed the subject." Hall took a drink of his Diet Coke, then leaned towards Nash. "Either way, we need more members."  
  
After a sarcastic laugh, Kevin replied. "Yeah, sure. It'd be easy to recruit...Let' see....We'll just walk up to one of the wrestlers and say, 'Hey yo. Wanna be poison and turn your back on the very thing that made you?' C'mon, now. It ain't gonna...." He stopped as an evil mischevious look came into his partner's eyes. He smiled. "Okay, I know you. What do you have up your sleeve, Scott?"  
  
Scott mocked confusion as he looked at theshort-sleeved nWo t-shirt. He turned back to Kevin, his eyes dancing with laughter.  
  
"Smart ass. Seriously, what's your plan?" Kevin said with a chuckle.  
  
"Well, lemme ask you this. We're an American bad ass group right?" Kevin looked at him in confusion until realization hit home.  
  
"Undertaker??? He wants to join?" He asked increduously.  
  
"Well......not exactly. See, I never asked him. I know what he would say if I did. If we want a great man like him to join, we just have to find a weakness.....or a hidden secret." He added, with an evil wink.  
  
"I see your point. Well, you'll have to do the spying." Scott got a "Do-I-have-to?" look in his eyes.  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Your idea."  
  
"So? Okay, we'll solve this nWo style."  
  
1.........2.........3.........  
  
"Ha! Scissors cuts paper!" Kevin cried out excitedly, his blonde hair swirling as he jumped up from the couch.  
  
"No way, chico! I meant to do rock, honest!" Scott said defensively, unwilling to accept defeat.  
  
"Sure, sure....Fine best of 3."  
  
"Best of 3 for what, brothers?" a deep, slightly crackly voice asked from the doorway. Scott couldn't help the guilty look that crossed his face. But Nash, being the most quick-witted, responded with an easy smile.  
  
"To determine who would go out with Scott tonight with his match." Hogan nodded, and put down his bag on a nearby chair. He sat down at a chair across from the couch, sighed, and lowered his eyes.  
  
"I've been meaning to talk to you guys about that." Out of his line of view, Nash and Hall exchanged a knowing look. They had suspicions that they may lose a member tonight. If that happened, they would resort to plan B; which was: Add a Dead Man to the poisonous nWo.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- Christian had his head down, not really paying attention to where he was going. As he rounded a corner, he felt the jolt of someone bumping into him. Not really paying attention, he muttered 'sorry' and began to walk off. When he felt the person grab his arm, he turned around angrily, ready to give the person a piece of his mind........  
  
...........but all those thoughts died when he saw who it was. The anger left him as he tensed up, not sure what to do.  
  
"Undertaker!" He said, surprised. "Um....what brings you on this side of the 'rooms? Your room is..."  
  
"If you don't know, then you'll soon find out." Undertaker responded, his voice a husky whisper. Damn, why did the kid have to wear a red fishnet- stocking shirt? The thing was a tease. It revealed so much, yet so little of Christian's perfect chest. 'Taker pulled Christian into his tight embrace, his green eyes piercing the anxious blue of his captive. Christian lowered his eyes as he began to struggle.  
  
"Let me go, damnit! Someone might...." Undertaker placed a finger under his chin, so they met eye to eye. He leaned in close to the Canadian, their lips nearly touching.  
  
"I don't give a damn if someone might see. I have a burning question that I plan to find the answer to, one way or another." He leaned in closer to Christian, and teasingly licked at the other man's lips. Christian ceased his struggles, but tensed up.  
  
'I can resist......I can resist' Christian repeatedly told himself mentally.  
  
As if sensing his thoughts, 'Taker slowly licked the inside of Christian's mouth, smiling mentally when he felt his hands go around his neck. Even then, he didn't increase his speed.  
  
'Damn him! I still can resist, I still can resi....oh, to hell with it!'  
  
Christian pushed upward, and turned the teasing kiss into a passionate one. Like the last time, Undertaker pulled away after a second. Christian kept his eyes locked on his, searching for any mockery or humor. He found none.  
  
"I told you......I would get.......my answer...." Undertaker said, between deep breaths.  
  
"Undertaker."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just shut up and kiss me." Undertaker, of course, was all too happy to oblige.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Hey, Kev! I need to go get something to eat." A look of understanding passed between them that the old Hulkster didn't catch. Scott nodded to his partner as he walked towards the door.  
  
"Hey Scott, can you get us some beers?" Hogan called out in a mocking voice as he stood up. Scott gripped the door handle tightly. Damn! Why did Hogan always have to bring that up? He clenched his fist, fighting the rage. As if sensing his tension, Nash walked over and massaged his neck and shoulders. Scott looked at Kev, questionaly. Kevin had the "Just-leave-it- alone" look and Scott nodded. He walked out the door, kicking the wall when he heard Hogan's laughter trailing after him.  
  
'He knows how hard it is for me. I'm a recovering alcoholic....I don't need--' Scott's mouth opened wide in shock as he saw the scene before him. He quickly kneeled down behind some equipment, doubting that he was seen. He smirked evilly. Oh this was, to quote a popular phrase, just too damn sweet! He quickly peeked out from behind the equipment, watching The DeadMan throw his future to nWo power.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker pushed Christian against the wall, his arms now on his love's shoulders. The kiss deepened; forgotten passion coming back full force. Christian wrapped his arms tighter around Undertaker's neck, as if afraid to let go. He was beyond thinking at this moment. He knew he shouldn't love the Dead Man. But, if he could just have this moment.....  
  
Unfortunately for Christian, the romantic moment was spoiled all too soon by his growling stomach. He winced as he felt Undertaker end the kiss once more. Unintentionally, he let out a little whimper of need and disappointment.  
  
"Undertaker....." He blushed and lowered his eyes, not sure what to say. Undertaker titled his chin back up, so that they were once again eye to eye. Undertaker was smiling, barely containing laughter when he spoke.  
  
"I do believe one of your more base needs made itself known. Perhaps you should listen to it, hmm?" Christian nodded, all to aware that they both still had their arms wrapped around each other. With Undertaker's smile and seductive green eyes so near to him, Christian couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Yeah, maybe I should. Any suggestions?" Undertaker's laughter was musical as it echoed around Christian's ears. He hugged his love close, Christian resting his head on the Dead Man's chest.  
  
"I think you punched your mentor a bit too hard last night. He stalked me all the way to the Lounge area....."  
  
Christian noticeable became tense, the smile being replaced by a frown. He didn't want to explain to him why he had punched DDP....and he hoped to God that Page hadn't said the reason either. Another nervous awkward silence followed......but it was cut short as Christian remembered something. He moved away from Undertaker, urgently glancing at his watch.  
  
"Damn!" Undertaker looked at him concerned.  
  
"Chris, what is it?"  
  
"My match! It starts in like 15 minutes! And these hallways are hell to navigate through!" Undertaker relaxed, and put his arm around the worried Canadian.  
  
"Is that all, love? Boy, I know all these hallways and shortcuts like the back of my hand. Don't worry.....I'll even make sure to grab you a bite to eat." Christian followed Undertaker's lead, his head resting slightly on the arm around his shoulders. After a minute, though, he looked around worriedly.  
  
"But...if someone sees......"  
  
"Highly unlikely. We'll take the shortcuts." As they started to walk away, Christian's eyes widened as he realized that Undertaker had called him "love" a few moments ago. For some reason, he found comfort instead of worry at the thought.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Scott Hall clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to supress his laughter. He risked another peek, seeing if they were gone. Once they were out of earshot, he let all his pent up laughter out. He got up and leaned against the wall, lost in his thoughts.  
  
'Undertaker's future was with the nWo, no question about....' he frowned, as he thought of the blonde pretty boy. If they got Undertaker, the Canadian Crybaby would be a problem, in both situations. If they got the boy in their pack....he was as good as useless. But, if they left him out, no matter how useless he was, he could still be an annoyance. Though they hated each other, Edge and all of *his* alliances could back the Crybaby up.  
  
He punched the wall again. But, as the Undertaker had found out earlier, walls were not very comforting. Scott ran his hand over his geled hair, letting out a sigh. Kev would probably know the solution. Scott started back towards the nWo room, unable to help the smirk on his face.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
AN- So, how'd you like this one? Lemme know! Thanks so much for the positive reviews! No flames as of yet. And, that's not a bad thing. That's a GOOD thing! : - ) 


	7. WX8

AN- Since WX8 is so scrambled for the characters involved (DDP, Christian, Undertaker, nWo), I'll probably skip around a bit....and I apologize for the bad in-ring scenes....I'm not that good at fight scenes. I love everyone who's read this! Thanks!! *gives everyone a hug and kissy*  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- "C'mon, Hulk, you can do better than that!" exclaimed Kevin Nash as he and Hulk Hogan were practicing for their matches. The nWo lockerroom was spacious enough so that it could turn into a mini-gym; complete with blue mats that were conviently placed in the room.  
  
So far, Kevin was finding that he was beating Hogan easily. He hoped the old man was saving all his energy until the big "Icon vs. Icon" match. Hogan had pinned Nash twice, and Nash had pinned Hogan about four times. He was about to make it five, when the door opened, reavealing Scott Hall, whom looked as if he'd been running. He was trying to hide a grin since Hogan was there, but Kevin, knowing his friend, could see through it.  
  
"Kevin.....uh, we need to talk. It's about......" he glanced at Hogan, who was laying on the mat, catching his breath, with his eyes turned away from him. He turned his gaze quickly back to Nash, who was sitting up beside Hogan, "....what we discussed earlier."  
  
Kevin nodded and stood, sweeping his long blondeish-brown hair out of his face with his hand and dusting himself off. He followed Scott out the door and the duo walked down the hall silently; or as silently as Scott could. He was grinning from ear to ear, practically jumping in his excitement. Nash watched his friend in amusement, wondering what the cause of it could be. The two walked into an exmpty storage room, and Scott began pacing the room. Kev had barely closed the door before Scott exploded in a jumble of words and hand motions.  
  
"He was.....I saw him and.....just wait till you know who it is!....kissing....down the hall...." He was stopped when Nash placed his hands on the smaller man's shoulders, trying to calm him.  
  
"Slow down, slow down. I can't understand a word you're saying, Scott." He shook his head, his smile reveiling his amusement. So Hall had been spying on some lovebirds, probably Matt and Lita, nothing major. "S-l- o-w-l-y tell me why you're so damned excited." Scott took a few deep breaths before continueing.  
  
"The Dead Man....Undertaker!.....was....kissing.....**kissing**!!!......Christian!" He looked at Nash, still smiling, wondering if the excitement was catching on. Apparently, it wasn't. "Don't you get it?!" He nearly shouted, slightly annoyed. "I found out the Dead Man's little secret! He's as good as nWo 4 Life, now. All we have to do, is be patient." The excitement caught on, finally.  
  
"This is too sweet, Scott!" They high-fived each other, but then Nash's smile was replaced with a frown. "Wait.....The Crybaby......" Hall nodded.  
  
"Yes. I thought it through, and I figured out two ways." He frowned, the bubbling excitement drained away. "Both of which, aren't very good." He counted off the ways with his hands. "One, we ignore him. Of course, if the two are lovers, he could be a distraction for The Dead Man. The second one is simpler, yet more impossible. Two, he becomes a member as well."  
  
"Yeah, I see both points. Well, we'll just wait until after we beat the shit out of Rocky and then follow The Dead Man whereever he goes. If the pretty boy is with him....." He shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, you can keep an eye on the boy. Maybe they're not what they appear to be....." Hall laughed sarcastically.  
  
"They *kissed* each other Kev. What else are they but queers?" Kev gave him a look that almost appeared to be anger.....but it was gone in a second.  
  
"You never know, Scott. Now, you go back to your spy game, and I'll go back to beating Hogan." They high-fived each other again as they walked out of the room, each going opposite directions.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
As Christian stood in the ring, waiting for DDP's music to hit, he thought about what Undertaker had said. Could Page *really* have stalked him? It seemed impossible, yet....  
  
"Yo, it' me! It's me! It's.....D......D......P!!" boomed the Titantron over the speakers.  
  
.....understandable, considering that it DDP. Page was, as usual, grinning his head off as he walked down the ramp to the ring. Christian tuned off the sound of the crowd, as the now-enemys faced off.  
  
When they locked up, and his long hair was over his face, Christian asked:  
  
"What did you tell Undertaker?" DDP just grinned and threw Christian off of him. They battled for a half hour, Christian unable to get close enough to ask his question again. After Page did his finishing move, the Diamond Cutter, he pinned Christian. As the referee started the 3 count, he leaned in real close to Christian and whispered in his ear.  
  
"I told ...."  
  
1!!!  
  
"....him the...."  
  
2!!!  
  
"....truth, Chris."  
  
3!!!  
  
He got up, while Christian remained on the ground, shocked. So, Undertaker had known what he had told Page? He had........Wait, what was Page doing?? He sat up on his knees as Page, mike in hand, began to speak.  
  
"I gotta tell you something. I'm proud of you, bro. Not only did you lose in front of 67,000 fans....but you didn't lose your temper!"  
  
The noise of the crowd came back to him, increasing as the fans screamed. Christian looked around, just now noticing how many people there were.....all seeing him losing this match. Not to mention......He looked back at DDP. Page's smile and voice hinted at the secret that the two knew of, the smile mocking Christian.  
  
"And Christian! That's not a bad thing....." The extremely large crowd spoke with him...."It's....A.....GOOD.....THING!!" He then dropped the mike and stepped out of the ring, holding the belt proudly.  
  
Christian glanced at the rampway, then at the large crowd. All these people....plus Undertaker.....watched him lose. He LOST! His brother saw....Undertaker saw.....the other wrestlers saw it.......He tried to contain himself, but his anger overflowed once more. He threw a tantrum, trying to open a hole up in the ring so he could bury himself into it and never come out.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- Scott watched the tantrum from the rampway entrance, leaning on the wall with his arms folded. He shook his head in disgust and disbelief. There was absolutey no way in Hell they would be able to accept this Canadian CryBaby as a member. It was impossible. The nWo could not afford to be laughed at and considered a joke like he was. But, as he watched, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the guy. He wondered if some type of championship would make the tantrums stop.....  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Page walked into the back room slowly, knowing he was going to be in a lot of pain in a very short amount of time. He had known The Dead Man would be watching, so he had purposelly insitigated the tantrum. Although, he realized now, maybe he had gone overboa...  
  
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!!" came the only warning before the punch to Page's jaw knocked him to the ground. The belt flew off of his shoulder, skidding across the concrete. He didn't remain on the floor for long, though, as he felt himself being thrown against the wall. Others were watching, he knew this, but all he could see was a very Undertaker in front of him. And that wasn't a good thing. He felt a hand wound tight around his throat, and the Undertaker practically shook in his rage.  
  
"What was the purpose behind that?!? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put you in the hospital, Page. Just *one*!"  
  
  
  
"I.....would......think.....much......clearer......without......choking..... " Page struggled to get out. He felt the grip lessen, but the threat didn't. "I had...to...do it."  
  
"You.....*had* to? No, no. You didn't *have* to do anything, Page. You just wanted to embarass and humiliate him!" Page flinched at the anger and he felt the hand around his throat tighten. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the guards slowly making their way towards them. He flashed his usual bright smile back at Undertaker.  
  
"Actions speak louder than words, my friend." That put Undertaker in a near frenzy, and he lunged at him. The guards began to run over, but their fear caused them to slow down a few feet away. Before they could stop him, Undertaker chokeslammed Page. The guards grabbed him then, pulling him away. Undertaker shoved them away easily, and kneeled down beside Page.  
  
"They do, huh? Well, maybe that action spoke volumes to your deaf ears, Page." He laughed and walked off. Page, meanwhile, struggled to get up. Unable to do so, he slumped back down onto the concrete floor. As unoncioussness drifted over him, his last thought was: 'You're an idiot, Page'......  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- "I'm better than Austin; he knows it, I know it. He just got lucky....." A slightly exhausted Scott Hall tried explaining to a frustrated Nash.  
  
"It's not going to happen again! Because tonight, we take our anger out on the Rock....." Nash replied angrily, and Scott nodded in agreement. They exchanged a look of worry as they saw Hogan walk up, dressed up for his match.  
  
"I know you guys are angry. But, I need a favor from the Brotherhood. I need to do this alone, brother. Cause in my heart, my friends, I just gotta know who the better man is." Scott and Nash agreed, and they watched as Hogan walked off.  
  
"There's no way we're not going to be involved in this...." Nash said, and then looked at his partner in confusion as Scott was starting to walk away. "Where are you going?"  
  
"I figure this match will be a long one, Kev. And I had this idea that if the pretty boy had something to be proud of, i.e the Hardcore Championship, I figured......" Nash nodded in understanding, but Scott could clearly see the distrust in his eyes.  
  
"Alright. But, you better be back here....and *soon*. Hogan is nothing to me, but I couldn't stand to lose....I mean, I can't be the nWo all by myself."  
  
"Don't worry, meng." Scott playfully smiled, as he replied in his old Razor Ramon voice. They did the Wolfpack symbol, and then Scott ran off.  
  
Scott followed Mighty Molly, keeping track of where she went. He smiled as she was headed towards the area of lockerooms where Christian was. He went down another hall, running ahead of the now-exhausted superhero sidekick.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian was boredly flipping through the channels on his small TV, lying on his bed, when he heard the knock at the door. He got up off the bed, automatically reaching for the door handle. Just as he reached the door handle, a well-known voice spoke, causing him to pause.  
  
"Hey yo, chico. Two halls down....you and a ref go there, meng." Then Christian heard running footsteps in the distance. Confused, Christian thought of the voice.....it sounded like Scott Hall.....only, Cuban?? Should he trust the words of an nWo member?  
  
With nothing better to do, he decided that he might as well. He ran out of his room, running to where the voice had said. He peeked around the corner, a smile spreading across his lips as he saw none other than the Hardcore Champion: Mighty Molly. He quickly motioned a ref over, then got in position.  
  
As Mighty Molly finally caught her breath, she glanced about her cautiosly and then continued her run down the hall.  
  
BAM!!  
  
She fell over as the metal door hit her, her brain to weak to even struggle for conciousness.  
  
"Stand back......there's a new Hardcore Champion comin' through....." Christian smirked, and then called the slow ref over. He "pinned" the unconcious Molly, and then jumped up, yelling out his excitement. He was a winner, dammit! He was!!  
  
He ran back to his room, still smiling, as he began to pack his things. Between holding tying the belt around his waist and packing his things, he somehow managed to call a cab.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- Scott Hall smiled as he ran back to where Nash was. He just hoped that would do the kid, and the future of the group, some good. The smile immediately left him as he reached Nash, who was looking out at the arena in shock.  
  
"What is it, Kev?"  
  
"Just fuckin' see for yourself," Kevin bitterly replied. So, Scott did. Hogan had just lost and Rock was standing on all the ring posts.  
  
"That bastard! He......Wait, Hogan is getting up! Kev, why don't we go down there now?"  
  
"Because.......Just keep watching, chico."  
  
Scott continued to watch in confusion as the old Hulkster made his way slowly over to Rock. Unconciously, he twirled the toothpick around in his mouth in his nervousness. When Hogan offered his hand to the winner, the toothpick nearly fell out of his mouth.  
  
"That stupid, son of a bitch! He *has* betrayed us! Kev! Are we just going to stand here?" Scott asked increduously. Kevin swept his hair back out of his eyes then smirked mischeviously at his Wolfpack brother.  
  
"Hell no, Scott. I'm just waiting to see how far this little bastard will go. When the time is right, we teach the old man a thing or two about respect." 


	8. Hardcore

AN- Well........another chapter!!! I apologize a thousand times over for the long wait. I lost all privelages (Is that spelled right?) to the internet..so, I can only get on at school or when my mom lets me on here. Plus, with Scott Hall leaving the WWE.....it was double depression. But, after seeing my fans continue to write reviews....not giving up on me.....well, that brought me out of my depression (It was before Hall leaving...but still, it brought me out). Anyway, I'm back!!! Since about 99% are already reading the story....well, lets get to it, shall we?! BOOYAKA!  
  
AN2- Guess What?! Annoying AN's are back too!! Oh it's true, it's STILL true!!! If you've e-mailed me, and are wondering why I haven't replied back....I apologize again. I'm grounded from e-mail for a while. :( Anyway....even though Scott Hall left......he WILL LIVE in this STORY!!!! With that being said.....I doubt MY story will follow the WWF/E storyline from WX8...but, you all didn't want my story to be a clone of their storylines any old ways, kee-rect? *nervous* Well, I hopes so! So...(finally)...onto the story! And the last you have to read the word "story"! LOLOL!! *laughs crazily*  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
While the camera was on the two "icons", Scott Hall and Kevin Nash raced down the rampway. Scott was the first to enter the ring while Nash climbed over the ropes on the right side. Hall glared at Hogan menacingly, which was joined by Nash's own sexy glare. Hogan, thinking they were after the Rock, shook his head no. He started to step through the ropes, but Hall tapped his shoulder, bring the exhausted Icon back in the ring. Hogan looked at him, confused.  
  
Scott Hall then "branded" Hogan as an nWo enemy: He flung his toothpick at him, blinding the "Immortal One" for a brief second. A second was all they needed. Kevin shoved Hogan into the back ropes, and when Hogan bounced back, he was met by a hard punch from Kev.  
  
At that moment, Rock ran back in the ring, wanting to help Hogan. He too was met with a punch from Big Daddy Cool. While the crowd booed wildly, Scott delivered a Razor's Edge to Rock, while Kevin delivered a Jacknife Powerbomb to Hogan.  
  
As the nWo left the ring, they took one last look at the carnage they had left behind. Both Hogan and Rock were unconcious, with Hogan bleeding profusely from the forehead. While the camera was on the ring, Scott whispered to Kevin:  
  
"Now....time to capture us a Dead Man."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A certain blonde Canadian was oblivous to all of this. He was wearing black jeans (slightly, annoyingly, tight), his fishnet-type wrestling shirt, and black boots. Christian ran through the long, twisty hallways of the Sky Dome with a huge smile on his face. Occasionally, he would laugh and shout out: "I'M A WINNER!!!!"; much to the annoyance of the other WWF superstars.  
  
His happiness soon faded, however, as he found himself.....lost. Christian looked around for a friendly face; one that would help him out. Well, he didn't find that. So, he'd go for the next best thing: a fellow Canadian!  
  
"Hey, Test! Uh....can you show me the way to the parking lot?"  
  
Silence from Test. Test, by the way, was working out. He sat on a stool, one hand lifting a weight, the other resting on his knee. He was wearing pleather black pants, heavy-looking boots, and a sleeveless black wife-beater shirt; why they called those shirts "wife-beaters", Christian was just confused about. Test just gave an evil glare to the younger Canadian and then turned back to lifting his weights. Christian knew he sounded dumb, but decided to ask again.  
  
"Ahem. Just tell me if it's left or right....." A pause. "You may not like me, Test, but you can help a fellow Cana-"  
  
"Ya know, you're the Hardcore Champion. If you want to *remain* the Champion, I'd suggest you leave me alone."  
  
With the anger behind those words, and the heated glare he was receiving, Christian decided to follow his words. He started to walk quickly down the left hallway....but was stopped by Test's playful voice.  
  
"Besides, kid, it's down this middle hallway, to the left, take a few more rights, and then you're there." Christian looked nervously at Test's mischevious smile.  
  
"Uh....thanks." Christian replied, and then ran quickly down the hall by Test before the older Canadian changed his mind about taking the Championship.  
  
Meanwhile.......  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A confused Scott Hall followed his nWo partner back to the lockerroom.  
  
"Uh...Kev? Shouldn't we be looking for the Undertaker?"  
  
"No need. I already know--DAMN! Where the keys to the room?" Kev exclaimed, digging through his pockets.  
  
"Oh, right here." Scott replied, handing him the keys. Kev said 'thanks' and then opened the door to the lockerroom. Scott plopped down on the sofa, while Kev dug through his luggage bag.  
  
"So....you were saying?"  
  
"Well, according to a sell-out, Christian just called a cab after...." Nash looked pointedly at Scott, "winning the Hardcore title." Scott put on his best innocent-looking smile....knowing his partner could see right through it.  
  
"I wonder how he got that, Kev." Kev rolled his eyes, and then turned his attention back to his bag. Scott continued, dropping the smile, "So....who's the sell-out?"  
  
"Who else? Chris Jericho. That little weasel is willing to do anything, squeal on anybody, to retain the title." Scott laughed.  
  
"The bastard. He hasn't realized yet that the only reason we helped him at No Way Out is because of orders from Vinny Mac. The little prick should know: nWo only look after nWo; noone else."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Well....what's the plan?" Scott asked impatiently. Kev sat down at a nearby chair, bag still in hand, as he continued casually.  
  
"Wherever the pretty boy goes, the Dead Man goes. Thus, we follow Christian."  
  
"Okay, I'm clear on that. But, what's in the bag that is so important?"  
  
Kev smiled. Scott's confusion disappeared as his eyes widened in surprise. Kev, however, appeared oblivious to the sought-out items he held in his hand as he continued, still using a casual tone.  
  
"You see, Jericho also informed me that Maven's hot on the blonde's trail. Now, Scott, do you see what I am getting at?" Scott nodded, and sneered evilly.  
  
"Yeah. We trap us a Dead Man!" They stood up, and Scott grabbed his leather jacket. Kev just replaced his short-sleeved nWo shirt with a long sleeved shirt. Kev pocketed the well-crafted knife, while Scott placed the gun in a holster, hidden beneath his leather jacket. They both then walked out of the nWo room and headed towards the parking lot.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Finally, Christian arrived at his destination: the parking lot. He excitedly threw his suitcase into the trunk of the cab and then opened the door to the backseat. He admired the belt for a moment when he got an idea.  
  
"Hey!" He shouted to the driver. He leaned far over the opened door to show off the belt. "You see this? That means I'm a Champion!!!" The chumpstain driver just rolled his eyes. "Ah, what do you know?! You're just a loser....." Christian retorted bitterly. He was about to get in when he felt himself grabbed from behind. Startled, he tried to free himself, but he was unable to do so from the the damned rookie. He heard the terrible sound of a ref counting ....1...2...3.  
  
Christian shouted his rage as the rookie jumped in excitement. But, adding insult to already insulted pride, Maven jumped in the Canadian's cab and drove it away. Christian shouted his rage to what he thought was an empty parkng lot. He fell to his knees, still shouting, and began punching the ground.  
  
After one punch, of course, he was shouting in a mix of pain *and* anger. The pain, however, is what cleared his senses...sorta. He decided to concentrate on that instead of his anger. DDP, although he hated to admit it, was right about one thing: he needed to get rid of his tantrums.  
  
Christian stood up, and dusted himself off. Well, in review, his luggage was in the cab, along with HIS Hardcore Championship belt. Christian still considered it his,even though---  
  
His thoughts broke off abruptly as he felt himself roughly grabbed from behind, a hand clasped over his mouth. He struggled against his unknown assailant...until he felt the coldness of what could only be a knife, pressed against his throat. He ceased immediately.  
  
"Well, chico, what a great title defense." Scott Hall said, sauntering slowly into Christian's line of view. "I help you out of the kindness of my heart, and what do you do?" Scott feined a hurt look. "You lose it! Tsk, tsk." Christian couldn't respond from both fear and the hand (whom he guessed to be Kevin Nash) that held him. He held his hands down at his sides, breathing deeply, hoping the nWo's intent would be made clear soon. Scott must've seen the look of confusion in his eyes.  
  
"Ah...you're wondering what we want with you, right?" Scott's smile disappeared slighlty, as he frowned in annoyance. "Big Kev....is there a way you can hold him without obstructing his mouth? I hate takling to myself." Kev must've nodded, for Christian instantly felt the hand move away from his mouth. Before he could get relaxed, though, he felt both of arms trapped between his and Nash's bodys, held by Nash's arm. Plus, he still had the knife at his throat. Christian ventured, with a shaky voice however, to answer Scott's question.  
  
"R-r-right....." he felt the knife move ever-so-slightly away from his throat so that he could speak.  
  
"Well, chico. I'll answer your oh-so-obvious question with another one." He moved closer to the young blonde, so they were just a few feet away. "Where's your Bad Ass boyfriend, the Undertaker?" At Christian's shocked expression, Scott just smirked. "Yes, I know about you two. You see...."  
  
Scott's sentence was cut off abruptly as he whirled around in surprise. Undertaker, with a look of near-satanic fury, came speeding towards them on his mortorcycle. Scott recovered quickly, reached within his slightly open leather jacket, and with an evil sneer, he quickly placed the gun directly at Christian's forehead.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
AN- So......do I still have the Gift that has all my fans entranced? I hope so. Anyway, reviews or no, I'll have the next chapter up soon. And this....I do promise. It's about 50% completed....I'll post it Wednesday? Why not Tuesday, you ask? Simple....this week my Comp Class is on Mon. Wed. and Fri..... Tues. and Thurs, I can get on the compy....but only a MacO! (Or whatever those comps are with the flat keyboard, odd-shaped mouse, hardrive and the screen all in one.....you know what I'm talkin' about.) 


	9. Confrontation

AN- Told ya I would have it up soon! ;) It's my special gift to all the reviewers who didn't give up on me.  
  
Informative Dude- Hello; It's me from "RAWFactor". I'm just wondering when the author will get back to THAT story....Thanks.  
  
AN- o_O Ummmm......Well, let's get on with Chapter 9 of THIS story!  
  
Informative Dude- Still doesn't answer my question... : - ( Thanks.  
  
AN- Ignore him...he's just bitter. *throws ID out* Anyway, I'll be taking a risk with an idea of mine....you'll see what I mean. Well, thanks again! Reviewers 4 Life!  
  
Informative Dude- That was lame.....  
  
AN- Why am I making mini-story with my ANs?!?!?!?! o_O  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
It had been easy to track the pretty blonde through the hallways...Undertaker's mind had been filled with all sorts of ways to surprise him. So, he figured the "bad boy" look always worked. Which explained the mortorcycle. What he hadn't counted on, however, was the shock of seeing his beloved trapped in the clutches of the heinous nWo.  
  
His mind then became a total blank as he rode like a bat out of hell towards the trio. His rage was so strong, that he was furiously gripping the handlebars, imagining them to be Hall's scrawny neck....  
  
And then that bastard had pulled the gun out.....  
  
Undertaker slammed on the brakes, the fury disappearing, as it was replaced by concern and disbelief. If he lost Christian after just getting him back.....  
  
His bike, after a trail of smoke and a black mark, stopped a few feet from the trio. Undertaker was wearing his black leather vest, blue jeans, a navy blue (almost black) bandanna, and his usual heavy boots. He turned off the bike, his eyes trained on the nWo.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christian went through numerous escape plans in his mind....each one rejected. He could feel the tears threatening to fall, and he did his best to keep them from doing so. Straight ahead was the ugly barrel of the hand- gun, so Christian kept his eyes locked on his love, Undertaker.  
  
He just hoped he lived through this, whatever "this" was, long enough to tell Undertaker that he loved him.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Aside from his good looks, it was easy to see why someone like the Undertaker would like the kid, Kevin Nash thought to himself. It was a sense, an aura, of helplessness, that surrounded him that was also attractive. Helplessness that cried out for one to protect him.....or destroy him.  
  
Kevin angled his right hand, which held the knife, more towards the right side of Christian's neck. With his thumb, he traced it lightly over the kid's neck, smirking as he felt the younger man quiver. His thumb didn't move around aimlessly, though. It traced over a particular spot; he could just feel the pulse faintly. Kev's own pulse quickened slightly in anticipation. He couldn't wait to get this young man into their Wolf Pack.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Undertaker got off his bike, his eyes and clenched fists revealing his deep rage, when he saw the smug Nash touching Christian, almost posessively. Undertaker did his best to keep his anger in check; if he lost it, it would be the end of them both. He waited for someone to speak first, make the first move. But, apparently, they were waiting for him. After a moment of unbearable silence, he spoke.  
  
"I demand an explanation for all of this!" Scott and Kev exchanged a look of amusement. But it was Kev who replied next.  
  
"Hey, join the party, 'Taker. You sure know how to pick the pretty ones, ya know. I figured, hey, we could all have a bit of fun...." Christian trembled in fear, but refrained from struggling. Undertaker stood his ground, helpless to avoid or stop the taunting. The coward was using Christian as a shield. If he so much as moved towards them......  
  
"Hey, don't get your cheap bandanna in a bunch, chico. Big Kev's only playin'. " Scott paused, as though thinking of a way to phrase what he planned to say next. "You saw Hogan's match?" Undertaker was taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. What were these bastards getting at?  
  
"Yeah, I did. I really don't see what that has to do with...."  
  
"Patience, patience. If you rush things....you'll ruin the fun. Now, you saw how he betrayed us, correct?"  
  
"Yes!" Undertaker nearly shouted, his impatience getting the best of him. All he wanted was his love in his arms and to be far, far away from these two troublemakers. He glanced at Christian, angry at the look of helplessness he saw there. And frustrated; knowing he felt the same way.  
  
"It seems dead men have no patience. So, I'll fast forward a bit. Hogan's no longer a member of the nWo. Which means, we're down to two." He smiled, and then continued. "So....we need another member." He glanced at Christian, then turned back to Undertaker. "Or....members."  
  
"There's no chance in HELL either me or Christian would join you!" Undertaker shouted. Nash just smirked and moved his left arm out from between Christian and himself. With the knife pressed closer to the center of the Canadian's throat, Kevin began to trace a finger down the center of Christian's chest, slowly tracing a pattern around his nipple through the mesh shirt he wore. A little whimper escaped him as he wanted to get away from Nash...but with the gun and knife at him, he was unable to even struggle.  
  
"Perhaps we should re-phrase that, Scott." Scott frowned, and looked at Kev in slight confusion. Kev turned his attention to Undertaker before responded.  
  
"Yeah. You see, it's not a question of whether Undertaker wants himself and Christian to join. It's a question of whether he wants to join *with* Christian." Christian gasped in surprise at what Kev said. Undertaker, shocked, turned his eyes to the Canadian.  
  
"You joined the nWo, Christian?!" he shouted, not wanting to believe it. Please, he thought, let it not be true!  
  
"No!!" Christian shouted his denial.  
  
"Oh, don't worry, chico. The pretty boy is tellin' the truth. You see, you have a choice of joining. Because, quite frankly, I don't want to be near enough to you to perform the Initiation. But, apparently, " he nodded to Nash, "he's quite eager to Initiate your boyfriend. So, it's like this, meng....Christian doesn't have a choice of joi--"  
  
"Hey!" Christian shouted, surprising everyone. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here, "chico", " He started, with a sarcastic edge. "You think I don't have a choice? What self-absorbed, egotisitical, idiots you are!" Undertaker quirked an eyebrow in surprise. His love had never been so outspoken before. Even Scott Hall looked shocked. "You think you just give me an nWo shirt, dress me up in black, and assume I'll be loyal?! Wrong! You can never get my loyalty. I'll only be loyal to one person and one person, only!" His voice caught as he ended his outburst. What if he never got a chance to be with Undertaker again?  
  
Scott recovered from his shock quickly, shooting Kev an amused look. Undertaker looked from the two in suspicion....What were they thinking now? Inside, he smiled. He was proud of Christian.  
  
"Well....you hear that, Big Kev? It appears the little boy has a big mouth on him."  
  
"In more ways than one, most likely, Scott." Kev responded. Scott glanced at the gun, and smiled. He spoke to Christian.  
  
"You're right. We can't expect loyalty from you. But, chico, it's not all about the clothes. In fact, the clothes are just a symbol. What it really comes down to...." he placed the gun at his outstretched arm. Christian was too shocked to respond. Kev, however, seemed exasperated.  
  
"Scott...there's no need to show off. Besides, I don't know how strong you are." Undertaker just smirked at all this.  
  
"Oh, just let him, "Big Kev". If the little prick got drunk and has a death wish...well, it'll make my job easier." Undertaker said. Scott looked near to laughing.  
  
"You see why I have to show them, Kev?" He looked to Christian. "As I was saying, the clothes are just a symbol; a representation of what we are. And, " he glanced at Undertaker, "you can't carry out your threat."  
  
"The bloody hell I can't!"  
  
"Say whatever you wish, meng. Because you see...." he then broke off suddenly. He smiled at Chrisitan and then took off his leather jacket, reavealing the short-sleeved nWo t-shirt beneath. After a moment's hesitation, he gripped the gun tightly and aimed it at his right wrist. He then pulled the trigger. The bullet went clean through, and both a shocked Christian and Undertaker could see the blood splatter on the pavement. They could see a tiny hole from where the bullet had gone through. Christian looked at Scott, expecting to a look of pain. Impossibly, Scott seemed unaffected by the gun shot. When he looked at Christian, his eyes had a reddish evil glint.  
  
"....our kind is quite hard to kill."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
AN- Yeah....I'm taking a big risk with where I plan to go with this. But, oh well! : - ) 


	10. Travel Plans

AN- Well, let's count the days. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday.....4 days.  
  
Informative Dude- Actually 3 days and some hours. You're at school for most of Frida--  
  
AN- Aw, shaddup! ANYWAY, it should've been enough....riiiight?? WRONG! I woke up Saturday with an extremely sore throat, stuffy nose (you know the type; one side is dry and clogged, the other is wet and drippy....can't breathe out of either one) a bad cough, and a high fever. As in: wearing 2 fur coats, a pair of sweatpants, two pairs of socks, the whole works. PLUS, that afternoon, I started.....uh.... you girls out there know. The "special friend" Mother Nature gives to all of us each month. It SO didn't reek of awesomeness!!!! Mom gave me the 'net, which was cool. Because......  
  
Informative Dude- Hello. It breaks some law for the Author to advertise other authors, soo....I got the job. I'm her alternate identidy. *smiles like DDP* I know you want me!  
  
AN- o_O  
  
Informative Dude- Well, they DO! Anyway..... http://www.dragonsfiredreams.com/ficmain.html . His/her fics are all slash (the WWF ones are; the "Dark World"series....there's a GREAT fic about Nash and Scott as werewolves written by Nix)....anyway, the WWF ones mostly deal with the hottest guys the Sports Entertainment has ever seen! I'm talkin' : Sean "X-Pac" Waltman, Shawn "HBK" Michaels, Paul "Hunter Hearst-Helmsley; HHH" Levesque, Scott Hall, and Kevin Nash....aka, THE KLIQ!! "Wicked Wind" features Christian and Undertaker (I steal nothing from her fics! Just read the fic as proof!) in a very....unique storyline. One of her wrestling fics, "A Fish In the Sea" is on ff.net. A great, although sadly short, fic!! Okay, enough advertising.....  
  
AN- I apologize for this being late. It's just Mother Nature slapped me with everything last weekend. But, during my sick time, I realized two things. 1) My hair is like Chris Jericho's; blonde on top....ponytail is black. 2) It's becoming increasingly difficult to stay in Character with Undertaker. After seeing Hall show off, I figure that'd be enough to break out of character. So....I'll call him by his name, Mark, from now on. Now then.......  
  
Informative Dude- She talks too much..... o_O *smiles brightly again* C'mon! There's got to be some girl out there who wants me! *pause* Anybody? *longer pause*  
  
AN- Why is my alternate personality a guy when I'm a girl? ........I worry about myself. o_O  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --- Mark Calloway, for once in his career, was utterly speechless as he watched the blood drip from the still-open wound of Scott Hall. Christian was struck speechless as well. Mainly because his insides were having a gymnastics class; his stomach was doing flip-flops. He heard/felt Nash sigh, exasperated, behind him.  
  
"Scott, Scott. If you've brain damaged either of them, it's your tail...."  
  
Tail?????  
  
".....Now, for the sake of the humans present, can you please close that?"  
  
"Alrighty, chico." he chuckled. He closed his eyes, and began to rock back and forth on his heels. Slivlets of light fluttered around the wound for a second then disappeared. In an instant, the skin particles began to close over the wound; the blood flow slowing, and finally stopping as it did. He stopped rocking on his heels and opened his eyes.  
  
"What....the....fuck....are you?" was all Mark could manage to get out. Christian felt the knife being put away with a whoosh of air. He fell to his knees, still trying to control his insides. He dry heaved for a moment before glancing back up at Scott in stunned disbelief. The wound was completely healed; but his wet blood was still on the pavement. How was it possible??  
  
"You'll be the first to find out, Chris." he heard Nash say, who was now crouched behind him. Nash looked at Mark, who was sitting on his 'cycle, before continueing; "It's up to the Bad Ass over there if he wants to be after you...."  
  
Christian leaped up (his stomach protested at his) and stared agrily down at Kevin. "Why don't I get a choice? If he's the one you're after, then why are you forcing an Initia..." he paused as Nash stood, towering over him. He swallowed and continued, determined. "And what is the Initiation??" Kevin just smirked and crossed his arms. Mark, knowing the shock was lowering the kid's caution, walked over and pulled him away a bit. The couple stood facing the sneering and smug Wolf Pack. It was Mark who spoke next.  
  
"I'm wondering at that myself. Why are you so determined to get Christian in the nWo?" Nash, without answering, glanced at his watch. Scott looked at Nash, slightly confused.  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
"By now, I think WX8 is over..." Nash responded.  
  
"Yeah so?" replied a still confused Scott, who just wasn't getting Kev's point.  
  
"So.....we should take this elsewhere. Maybe a nearby hotel or...." he looked suggestively at Christian.  
  
"One, I don't live in Canada anymore. I live in Florida; weren't you listening to what I said earlier? Two, why do you keep changing the subject?"  
  
"There's a time and a place for certain things." Nash replied mysteriously. "Now.... we can do this one of two ways--"  
  
"Do *what*?" Mark asked. Nash rolled his eyes.  
  
"Get to the hotel, of course. It's either me and Christian in my--"  
  
"I'm not going *anywhere* with you!"  
  
"--car, and Scott and Undertaker on his motorcycle. Or vice versa." Mark and Scott were trading looks of disgust, clearly not happy with the traveling plans. Christian hugged Mark tighter. Kevin, meanwhile, was very amused.  
  
"Scott, you act like I'm asking you to break a fang or cut your eye out." he laughed.  
  
"I haven't even said I agree to *any* of this." Mark said. "But, I must admit, you have my curiosity after Scott shot his own arm...." Christian stared at Mark in shock.  
  
"You can't be serious! You're actually *considering*....?"  
  
"I didn't say that, love." he looked back to Nash. "How about me and Christian on my bike, and you two...?" Scott snickered.  
  
"Chico, you think we're idiots? There's no way we're giving you two a chance of escape." He thought a moment. "Of course, I'm not too thrilled with sitting behind you on *that* thing. I'd prefer to run....." He placed his arm on Kev's shoulder. "Either way, can we hurry this along? The more we spend chattin', the more the night grows old."  
  
"Sure, Scott. So, you two, what's it gonna be?" he said, looking to Mark and Christian.  
  
"This is utterly insane!" cried Christian. "There's no way I'm getting in your car, Kev; and I doubt Mark wants you on his bike, Scott. So- -" he stopped as Mark put his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder gently.  
  
"Chris, calm down." He looked to Nash. "You drive, and we'll follow you on the bike."  
  
"No. It's either me and Christian in my car or him and Scott on your bike." He chuckled. "I'm sure Scott could.... figure out how to drive one of those things." Scott chuckled as well, only a little nervously. Mark sighed, exhaustion starting to settle in. It was either Nash or Scott with his love; which was the lesser of the two evils? Nash seems to want to seduce him more than kill him; while it wasn't a comforting thought, it was better than the idea of Scott trying to drive a motorcycle.  
  
"Fine. Me and the "chico" on my bike. When do we....." he stopped as Christian squeezed his shoulder and gave him a weird look. Confused, he narrowed his eyes. Christian just rolled his, exasperated. Some men just can't take hints. He turned to the nWo. "Pardon us a moment." was all the Canadian said before dragging Mark a few feet away, out of ear shot. Nash looked to Scott, who just shrugged his shoulders. They waited patiently.  
  
"What is it, Christian?" asked Mark, worried at his lover's mischevious smile.  
  
"I just had a sudden idea....." he leaned closer to Mark, just to assure that they wouldn't be heard. "We play matchmaker....."  
  
"Huh?! With who..........?" Christian nodded in the nWo's direction. "Kev and Scott? You think they--"  
  
"I'm not sure, Mark. But, still, it could be fun." Mark chuckled and tightly hugged Christian. "You and your plans, love. Alright, what is it this time?"  
  
"A simple bet. Sometime during this damned "trip", you somehow get Scott to agree to a bet; I'll do the same with Nash. The bet is that they kiss their partner......See what I'm getting at?" Mark chuckled again.  
  
"Yeah, I get ya. So, is that all you wanted to tell me?" Mark asked with a mischevious glint in his eye.  
  
"No. There's always this...." his voice trailed off as the two passionately kissed. In the distance, the nWo groaned. Scott sat on the bike as Nash walked over to seperate the two.  
  
"Hey, hey! You two can save that for later." he said, placing a hand on both their shoulders. Mark gave him an angry look while Christian was amused. He turned to Nash. "So can you...." was all he said, before walking off. Nash followed him, calling the limo on his cell phone. Mark, meanwhile, scowled at Scott on his bike. Scott was playing around with the handlebars, acting like he was driving.  
  
"First rule: Don't touch anything." Mark said dangerously, to get the man's attention. Once he did, he smirked. "Second; you want the back or front?" Scott just gave him an evil look. Mark chuckled and grabbed Scott by his shirt front. "Will you get off my bike or do I have to throw you off?" Scott growled incoherently and got up. Mark smirked and sat down, keeping an eye on Nash.  
  
Meanwhile, Christian was leaning against the wall, waiting for *their* ride.  
  
"I thought you said you were driving....?" he asked Nash. Nash just shrugged. "Why drive when you can call a limo?" Christian frowned. That meant...back seat. Alone with Kev. Not good. Seeing his obvious discomfort, Kev chuckled.  
  
After a few minutes of impatient waiting (Christian made sure to keep his distance; Scott refused to get on the bike until it was absolutely time) the limo came through the garage. Mark revved the engine on his bike, and parked behind it. Kev opened the door, and motioned for Christian to get in. "After you" he said. Christian, after a cautious look at Nash, got in. Nash, after one last amused glance at Scott and Mark, got in after Christian. Mark watched the door close, and the limo start off slowly. He turned to Scott.  
  
"Time to ride, chica." With another angry look, Scott got on. After a moment's hesitation, he placed his arms around Mark's waist. "It's *chico*. Chica means--"Scott growled. "I know what it means." Mark interrupted, smirking. He followed the limo, slightly frustrated at its slow speed. He remembered Chris's "matchmaking" plan. He wondered how he was even going to get into a *decent* conversation with his riding partner; let alone make a bet. He just hoped this wasn't a very long ride.....  
  
Meanwhile, in the limo....  
  
Christian was seated as close as he could get to the door, on the right side; with Nash against the opposite. Nash smiled and waited. He knew the younger man had some questions. So, he'll just let the silence stretch until he's ready. He pretended to be interested in the landscape they were passing. Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed Christian glance at him. After about a minute....  
  
"You still haven't answered my question, Nash." Christian said quietly, almost a whisper. Nash looked over, with a I-have-no-clue-what- you're-talking-about look.  
  
"What question would that be?" was his response. Christian sighed, frustrated, and finally looked at Nash.  
  
"About why you want me in your WolfPack so much."  
  
"Oh, that question. Well, I planned to tell you that, along with everything else, later, at the hotel."  
  
"Why not now?" Nash just shrugged away his question and turned back to the window. Christian smiled mischeviously. Let's see....he wanted to know something; and he wanted to make that bet. Well, time to kill two birds with one stone.  
  
"In a betting mood?" he asked Nash, mysteriously. Nash turned to him, surprised.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --- AN- Ya know somethin'? In this chapter, I only used two line- breakers? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I'm not sure.... I wanted to add a lot more to this chapter....like, go through the whole Initiation thing. But...my mind went ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZ.  
  
Informative Dude- It does that a lot.....  
  
AN- Grrrr!! So, I will have the next chapter up soon!  
  
Informative Dude- Notice that she's not setting a pecific date-- Ahhh!!! *runs as Author comes after him with a gun* 


End file.
